Well.

It has been brought to my attention by none other than my own BROTHER that this blog is getting "stale" as there has been no new content lately.

All in favor of making his blog moniker "Mr. Pickypants"? Show of hands? Any better suggestions?

Let's Not Get Ahead of Ourselves...

It is finally gloriously spring here! We have:

Sun - check

Chirping Birds - check

Warm breezes - check

Crocuses and (almost) daffodils - check

Greening grass - check

I told Bug exultantly the other night that it was supposed to hit 70 degrees by the end of the week. She leaned forward excitedly, "And we usually get our pool out when it's in the 50's, right??!"

Uh, no. Sorry, kid.

My Daughter the African

Last night was "Country Night" for the Stretch classes at Bear's School. Each kid chooses a country and spends several weeks researching it, writing a report, and creating a visual display board. They are also responsible for dressing up like a person from that country and bringing a representative food to Country Night. There were some great country choices: India, China, France, Italy, Canada, Mexico, Ireland...

What does my kid pick? Well, the fifth graders were limited to a country from either Africa or Asia. I lobbied hard, HARD, for China (we have artifacts from Nana's China Trip! I could make stir fry!), but Bear let a classmate with an adopted Chinese sister take China. Wuss. "Fine," I tell her. "That was nice of you. What did you pick?"

"Tanzania", she tells me. TANZA-FRICKIN'-NIA! Tip: not a lot of research material out there, folks. Or photos. Or recipes. Or, well, anything.

Still, she (we) managed to cobble together a pretty decent project, and as a bonus it turns out that my kid looks darn cute in a turban. She had a minor moment when I pulled her bangs back under the turban (according to her, she is "ugly" without bangs), but I raked her bangs back out from under the cloth and narrowly averted a full-scale preteen hissy fit.

And a more full-length costume shot, along with her "Moroccan" friend:

Here is her entire project. Notice that she even painted a picture of Mt. Killamanjaro, which I thought was a nice touch.

Finding a food to take was a little dicier, since several of the recipes I managed to dredge from the depths of the Internet called for goat. Um, no. Two called for bush meat. I had to look that up, although I suspected I knew where this was heading. Yup, "primate, rodent, or ungulate" foraged from the surrounding area. Mittens came close to being a candidate for bush meat this week, but I thought the children might be upset. We made bread with coconut milk and cardamom, and a Fruits of Africa pie with mango, pineapple, and oranges. Both quite good. Who knew?

Mittens Is the Antichrist

I just walked into the kitchen to find Mittens on the table LICKING it. When I shrieked (there's really no other word), she just looked at me calmly, like What? Is this a problem?

The Dance Recital...or Why I Became an Alcoholic

Let it be known that their hair was carefully curled and be-glittered, their costumes were pressed, all of their many hairpieces and accessories organized, AND they were on time for every performance. If I'm being strictly factual, I would also have to admit that they subsisted for four days on snacks and McDonald's, as we were usually either: a. on our way to a performance, b. backstage, or c. on our way home from a performance. They also didn't get what could be characterized as a normal amount of sleep for four days. But, dang it, they had a ball, and they were so proud to be up on stage doing their meticulously rehearsed dances that it made me a little bit teary every time I watched them.

Bear, doing her tap routine:

Bug, doing her tap routine:

Bear, doing her jazz routine to Michael Jackson's "Thriller":

Bug, doing her ballet routine:

Bear, doing her ballet routine:

...and I am SO FREAKING GLAD IT'S OVER!

It's Dance Recital Week!

It's been a jam-packed week without a lot of time to blog, but here are a few pix of what's been going on at Casa de Jenn.

Nana arrived on Tuesday. She's either incredibly game or perhaps not-so-bright to electively visit us during Dance Recital (Hell) Week. It's a week of very little sleep, lots of McDonald's, more glitter and hairspray than your average drag queen uses in a year's time, and progressively cranky kids (see: lack of sleep) as the week wears on. Still, Nana wouldn't miss it, and the girls ADORE having a captive audience member who tells them they're fabulous no matter what.

Here's a little preview of dance recital pictures taken last night at dress rehearsal. There will be more to come later in the week.

-Jenn